


Prophecy of a Harvest

by Maybethings



Series: May Be Promptin' [15]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-24
Updated: 2011-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Generated prompt. Orsino/Flemeth, unexpected gifts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prophecy of a Harvest

She came when Orsino had just been anointed First Enchanter, appearing in his office on that first long night. He started at the sound of his office door closing—it had never been open—and found himself looking at a woman, ageless despite her white hair and dark lips.

“What do you want?” he asked. “It’s late, and the templars—”

“—are not who I came to see.” She stood comfortably before his table, palms down upon his paperwork. “So you are the new First Enchanter. We will see how the world spins around you.” Her eyes were bright yellow, more cat-like than any cat, and her gaze bored into his with unblinking calm. “I bring you a gift tonight. A gift you may choose to use as you wish.”

Magic crackled in the woman’s words, in her clothes, in her hair. Orsino felt a cold sliver of fear flash through him. Every instinct told him to run. Every muscle refused to listen. After what seemed like an eternity, he found his tongue. “I seek to bring Kirkwall’s mages out of danger. Not into more. And no offense, madam, but I think your gift is danger itself. And I do not even know your name.”

The woman cackled, and the light caught the scales on her attire. “Names are pretty, but unimportant. Very well. It is your choice to accept or refuse. Whether you have made the right choice remains to be seen—but I will give you another gift.” She leaned over his table, her cheek brushing his, her breath smelling of earth and dragonfire and power. “The key to your freedom. Look,” Flemeth whispered in his ear. “One day you will seek the unexpected harvest. And seek it in blood.”


End file.
